Five albums you should have bought in 2008

Wednesday

Dec 31, 2008 at 12:01 AMDec 31, 2008 at 4:27 PM

Rather than pick his “top albums” of the year — which would insinuate that he listened to all or even most of the albums that came out, and then compared them, and who has that kind of time? — Peter Chianca of the Blogness on the Edge of Town blog offers his list of five albums that may have passed you by in 2008, but shouldn’t have.

Peter Chianca

Rather than pick his “top albums” of the year — which would insinuate that he listened to all or even most of the albums that came out, and then compared them, and who has that kind of time? — Peter Chianca of the Blogness on the Edge of Town blog offers his list of five albums that may have passed you by in 2008, but shouldn’t have.

1) The ’59 Sound, Gaslight Anthem. I’m hesitant to call these guys the next big thing, because whenever I say that about a group it disappears almost immediately into the entertainment ether, never to be heard from again. But the way they infuse their melancholy rock anthems with shades of Ramones-era punk pop is unbelievably listenable, and not just because they wear their Springsteen references on their sleeves (and also their pant legs and boot heels). “No surrender, my Bobby Jean,” they sing in “Meet Me By The River’s Edge,” and with their refreshing lack of ironic detachment (which should be familiar to Bruce fans), I’ll be darned it if they don’t sound like they mean it. Download: “Great Expectations”

2) Blame it on Gravity, Old 97’s. I can’t for the life of me figure out why this group isn’t more of a household name. It looked like lead singer Rhett Miller was headed for some solo success a few years back, but his second album tanked and he’s back where he started, with the best “alt country” act still making the rounds. (I was never quite sure what that term is supposed to mean — it still sounds like rock ’n’ roll to me.) Miller has more than a touch of Dylan about him, with a voice that’s both wry and plaintive at the same time — the doomed ship song “Here’s to the Halcyon,” as much about God’s mysterious plans for us as it is about the sinking vessel of the title, comes to mind. But on songs like “The Fool,” “No Baby I” and “Early Morning,” the 97’s have a bounce that Dylan can only dream about. Download: “The Fool”

3) Volume One, She & Him. I challenge anyone to watch the movie “Elf” without getting at least a little bit of a crush on Zooey Deschanel. And that charisma definitely plays a part in the success of She & Him, her collaboration with singer-songwriter sing M. Ward. But the eclectic song selection is also a big factor here — everything from ’60s doo-lang girl group to country twang to a cover of the Beatles “I Should Have Known Better,” with “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” thrown into the mix for good measure. Ward’s instrumentation is sublime, and as for Deschanel’s voice — she may not be a belter, but she somehow makes you feel like you’re listening from a few yards away in a smoky cabaret where nobody knows your name, and you like it that way. Download: “Sweet Darlin’”

4) Stay Positive, The Hold Steady. There’s the usual mélange of drunkards, drug addicts and losers on The Hold Steady’s latest collection, but there’s something else too: a new embrace of different styles, instruments and a bracing power that coalesces around Craig Finn’s unusual but ultimately appealing vocal style. The sad decline of the girl at the center of “One For the Cutters” is brought into sharp relief by a melancholic harpsichord, of all things; “Joke About Jamaica” channels Peter Frampton, complete with talk-box guitar. The narrators are sometimes frustratingly detached (they could stand a touch of the Gaslight Anthem’s sincerity), but that doesn’t make their stories any less affecting: “Constructive Summer,” with its claim that this would be the season when its protagonists finally “build something,” starts the album off with a sense of hopefulness that’s inspiring, false as it may be. And the title track seems to draw on fans of a certain Jersey rocker: “The kids at the show, they’ll have kids of their own/and the sing-along songs will be our scriptures.” Download: “Sequestered in Memphis”

5) Accelerate, R.E.M. Who knew that R.E.M. had this album left in them? Given to sonic noodling since drummer Bill Berry left the band in 1997, it seemed a return to the days when an R.E.M. album actually crackled and soared was unlikely. But they do both on Accelerate, with Michael Stipe’s vocals reflecting a new urgency and his rhymes more biting, clever and (at times) familiarly obtuse than ever. Guitarist Peter Buck in particular sounds revived, like someone finally unstrapped that other hand from behind his back. He grinds as much as he jangles on songs like “Man Sized Wreath” and “Living Well is the Best Revenge,” two songs that could have come right off Life’s Rich Pageant. And it’s not all obscure: the haunting, deliberate “Houston” is a moving contemplation of Katrina’s aftereffects. I don’t know how many people still care, but this is a return to form of staggering proportions. Download: “Supernatural Superserious”

Runners up: Momofuku, Elvis Costello: B-level Costello is still better than most artists’ A-work, and the dashed-off Momofuku starts off as strong as any Elvis offering before going a little off course toward the end. But it’s a solid reminder that when he’s not hosting talk shows or dueting on other people’s albums, the man can still rock the joint. (Download: “No Hiding Place.”) Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings, Counting Crows. This one too meanders a bit, particularly after it hits the mellower “Sunday Mornings” section of the disc. But it’s the Crows’ most effective and meaningful work since their second album, 1996’s Recovering the Satellites, and a reminder that Adam Duritz’s voice is a true rock ‘n’ roll original. (Download: “Hanging Tree.”)

And for collections, you can’t go wrong with Volume 8 (8!) of Bob Dylan’s Bootleg Series, Tell Tale Signs, which gathers the best rare and unreleased tracks of the last 20 years in a stunning display of latter-life genius; and the staggering Roy Orbison retrospective The Soul of Rock and Roll, featuring 107 tracks of beautiful loneliness. No download suggestions for these — just get the whole sets. You’ll thank me later.